


The True Meaning of Halloween

by bluebellsandcocklesshells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Halloween, M/M, mild panty kink, past dean/lydia - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 05:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellsandcocklesshells/pseuds/bluebellsandcocklesshells
Summary: Castiel is miffed that Dean changed their usual Halloween bash plans at the last minute to take his daughter trick-or-treating.  It turns out not to be such a bad night after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Destiel Halloween Mini Bang. [lotrspnfangirl](http://lotrspnfangirlgraphics.tumblr.com/) made some incredible art for it.  You definitely should checkout all of her amazing work and all the other Halloween Mini Bang stories.

 

Castiel tossed the bag of assorted “fun size” candy bars into his shopping cart, which was already laden with the fixings for pumpkin pie and Dean’s “Texas can eff-itself this chili has beans in it” chili.  The aisle of candy was pretty barren since today was Halloween, but he didn’t think there were that many kids in their neighborhood anyway.  His eyes swept over the explosion of orange and black and the sad leftover costumes no one wanted like “Hobo” and “Sad Clown.”  He pointed his cart toward the checkout counters with a small frown on his face.

Castiel loved Halloween.  It had always been his favorite holiday as a child.  It was the one time of year he could dress up as something other than himself and no one thought he was weird.  His parents had a lot of strict rules that he had tried so hard to obey and yet somehow always ran afoul of them one way or another.  But on Halloween—he could be wild and a troublemaker and it was okay.  It was expected.  As long as he didn’t get into _too_ much trouble.  Like the year he’d gotten caught egging Sheriff Turner’s house.  Relatively harmless Halloween prank or not, he’d been grounded for a month and forced to rake Sheriff Turner’s yard until the leaves had stopped falling.

As an adult…Halloween had been even more fun.  Castiel dressed fairly conservatively every day not only because his job as a police detective required it, but because he preferred the formality and separation it established with strangers.  So on Halloween, he usually went a little overboard with the “out-there” nature of his costumes.  He especially had in college, venturing into highly suggestive costumes and even cross-dressing.  In fact, that’s how he’d met Dean.

Castiel had been wearing the same slutty nurse outfit as Dean’s date to the Sci-Fi Club/Anime Club/LARP Club’s annual joint Halloween extravaganza.  No matter how drunk Dean claims to have been, Castiel still didn’t quite believe that he’d really mistaken a guy six inches taller, nearly twice as wide, and with hairy legs for his petite female date.  Regardless, they’d wound up behind the vending machines at the student union making out and giving little thought to either of their jilted dates.  That night they’d also discovered they had a shared panty kink, but as to who was the one actually wearing the panties…that was classified.

“Both?”

Castiel shook his head and looked up.  The cashier was holding up a can of pink beans and a can of black beans.

“What?”

“You want both kinds of beans?”

“Oh, um, yes.”  Castiel blushed even though he knew the woman hadn’t been privy to his thoughts.

The lady nodded and continued scanning.  He eyed her surreptitiously as she worked.  He’d never had a grocery store worker question his shopping choices before.  She used his reusable bags—after he pointed them out to her for the third time—and then he was on his way to the car.  Not his car, Dean’s car.

Yes, Castiel was driving the Impala because Dean had to drive an hour to Springfield to pick up Emma and Lydia refused to let the little girl ride in the old car with approximately zero safety features.  Castiel loved to ride in the Impala, but he kind of hated to drive it.  One more reason why this year’s Halloween was going to suck.  The main reason, of course, being that they were skipping the usual party they went to with their friends to take Dean’s daughter trick-or-treating.

Dean’s daughter.

How could one little girl so completely and irrevocably change the dynamic of their relationship?  She was the product of a one night stand over five years ago.  Dean’s transient tryst with Lydia had kind of overlapped with their newly rekindled relationship.  After college they’d decided to take a break as Castiel had started at the police academy and Dean had followed Sam to California and gotten a job as a tour guide in a city he had never lived in—because _that_ wasn’t a weird profession for Dean Winchester to have.  When Sam had started law school back on the east coast, Dean had decided not to follow and resettled back in Kansas.  Castiel had still been putting in his dues as a uniformed beat cop and had pulled Dean over for speeding.  Castiel wasn’t proud of it, but Dean had totally flirted his way out of a ticket.

They’d gone a few dates, hooked up once or twice, but neither could define what they had been doing as anything more than casual.  It had been when Dean had been describing his wild hookup with some chick named Lydia that Castiel had realized he was jealous.  And worse than jealous, he’d been hurt.  Rather than swallow it all down and pretend like it didn’t bother him, Castiel had informed Dean that he wanted to change their relationship to something much more formal and definitely exclusive.  Dean hadn’t balked even a little.  Of course he hadn’t.  They’d been in love since college—five years didn’t change that.

That year had been so good for Castiel—he’d gotten promoted to sergeant, his brother had made up with his girlfriend and finally moved out of Castiel’s apartment, and he’d gotten Dean back.  As much as the thought of Lydia and Dean together made Castiel’s stomach rebel, he had always viewed it as a positive because it had brought him and Dean together for good.

Fast-forward a few years and Castiel was a lieutenant with one of the highest solve rates in the homicide division, and Dean’s classic car restoration company was finally making money rather than breaking even.  Everything had been perfect…and then Dean had taken that trip to Springfield to look at some old parts for a rare car.  He’d stopped for lunch at a fast food place and by chance run into Lydia—who was in the company of a four year old girl.  Castiel wasn’t sure of the exact details of what happened next, Dean had always been a little vague when he told that part of the story, but he did manage to get Lydia to confess that the little girl, Emma, was his.

Castiel hadn’t understood why Dean had even had the suspicion when he’d seen them and suggested as tactfully as he could that he should ask for a paternity test.  Dean had said it wasn’t necessary and immediately started the legal process to get shared custody.  Thankfully the whole thing had gone fairly amicably—so far, the finalization was still pending—and Lydia had been open to the idea of Dean spending time with Emma immediately.  At first, Dean had gone alone so that the little girl could get used to him.  They had bonded quickly over the next four months, and just last month Castiel had met her for the first time.

As soon as Castiel saw her, he knew why Dean hadn’t bothered with a paternity test.  The little girl was beautiful with blonde hair, green eyes, pink Cupid’s bow lips, and an attitude that at five was still adorable and not obnoxious.  Castiel no longer had doubts that Emma was Dean’s daughter.

Of course, that presented a whole new set of challenges.  Castiel wasn’t jealous of Emma—not exactly anyway—she definitely spent more time at her mother’s than with them.  However, their lifestyle had changed.  They’d skipped a night out with friends once to sit through a two and a half hour dance recital so that they could see Emma and nine other five year olds tap dance out of synch with each other and the music for two minutes.  It had been torture, but the look on Dean’s face told Castiel that the torture had barely even registered.  They’d had to childproof their townhouse and convert the spare bedroom, which had been an office and gym combo, into a little girl’s room.  And when Emma stayed the night, their amorous activities had to be severely curbed if not outright suspended altogether.  Worst of all, Castiel had to accept that he was no longer the most important thing in Dean’s life.  He didn’t feel neglected, but he was pretty certain that if both he and Emma were dangling over a volcano and Dean could only save one of them, then he was in for a fiery death.

He’d also become a stepparent virtually overnight and he and Dean hadn’t even really discussed the possibility of having children.  They hadn’t even discussed marriage now that it was legal.  Castiel knew that Dean was his “until death do us part,” but suddenly all these questions popped up involving legally binding contracts.  It didn’t seem like a very organic way to make a family, but the way Dean smiled when he held his daughter in his arms made Castiel go all weak in the knees.  It was a little embarrassing.

So while Castiel was willing to make every sacrifice Dean asked of him to accommodate this new dynamic in their life, he hadn’t thought that would mean giving up his Halloween fun.  Lydia lived in a safe single-family home suburban neighborhood, the ideal place for trick-or-treating.  Dean and Castiel lived in a townhouse on the street that seemed to be the boundary between the good side of town and the bad side—the proverbial train tracks as it were.  Emma should be with her mother and her school friends in their nice cookie-cutter neighborhood.  But Dean had offered to take the little girl himself when they had gone apple picking as a trio.

The trio being Dean, Lydia, and Emma.  Castiel had been invited, but he’d had to work.  He’d tried so hard not to be a raging psycho when Dean had come home chattering about the great day they’d had and how cute Emma was and how’d they baked a pie with the apples they’d picked and how they’d decided Dean would keep Emma for Halloween since he liked the holiday better than Lydia.  He must have partially succeeded because Dean just looked a little guilty as opposed to angry and disappointed that Castiel was being a total brat about the whole thing.

Castiel deposited the grocery bags into the trunk of the Impala and glanced over the receipt as he pushed the cart one handed toward the return rack.  He was surprised to see the total was so low.  Then he remembered it was because he hadn’t needed to buy any alcohol for the party they usually went to.  He supposed that was an upside, but it just made him scowl as he realized again that he was going to have a very boring Halloween.

Castiel started up the car and pulled hard on the wheel to get it to turn in the direction he wanted without the aid of power steering.  He wanted his Hyundai back; preferably not with Cheerios ground into the flooring.  In fifteen minutes he was pulling the Impala into the garage of the townhouse he shared with Dean.  His Hyundai Genesis was in the garage which meant that Dean and Emma were back already.  He took a moment to collect himself.  He would be kind and cheerful and not give Dean any reason to think that he had to choose between Castiel and his daughter.  Because Castiel didn’t want that at all.  He didn’t begrudge Dean his daughter and wanted her to be a part of their lives…maybe just a smaller, more distant, see her for a day or two at Christmas part.

When Castiel opened the garage door he heard high pitched squealing and what sounded like a low growling cartoon monster.  His eardrums vibrated with a particularly shrill shriek and his attempt at a smile was already gone.  He stepped through the mud room and into the kitchen.  Dean held Emma upside down and was blowing a raspberry onto her exposed tummy as her shirt obeyed gravity.  She was shrieking even louder and giggling wildly.  Castiel put the groceries on the counter and waited for them to notice him.  It took longer than it should have, in Castiel’s opinion, but when they did Dean grinned at him and put Emma back on her feet.  The little girl became much more subdued and partially hid behind Dean’s leg when she saw Castiel.  They didn’t have an antagonistic relationship, but it wasn’t warm either.

“Hey, babe,” Dean said, walking over to examine the grocery bags after pecking Castiel on the cheek.  “Did they have everything?”

“Everything on your list,” Castiel replied woodenly, his eyes on the little girl as she picked at one of the kitchen table chairs.

“Awesome.  Can you get started with the chili?  I promised Emma we would carve the pumpkin we got when we went apple picking.”

“Sure,” Castiel said, unpacking the groceries and trying not to be offended that he wasn’t invited to help carve the pumpkin.  Granted they never carved pumpkins before because Castiel had said he hated the activity, so it made sense that Dean wouldn’t ask him to participate.  That was what rationality told him.  Crazed jealousy told him that Dean wasn’t interested in spending time with him anymore now that he had a daughter to dote on.

Castiel decided that he would just focus on his tasks—after all, Dean’s recipe of “just dump everything in one big pot and stir it” was very complicated.  He mostly succeeded until he noticed that the only preparations Dean had made were to set the pumpkin on a table and grab a huge knife.

“Stop!” Castiel shouted.

Dean and Emma looked at him with wide eyes and twin expressions of “I don’t know what I did wrong but I’m going to try to look innocent anyway.”  Castiel put his hands on his hips.

“Are you really just going to do that right on top of my table?”

“Uh…”  Dean looked away and then back at Castiel.  “Yes?”

“No.  Go get a piece of cardboard from the recycle bin and grab a couple of plastic shopping bags so you have something to put the guts in.”

“There are guts?” Emma asked.

Her face was alight with excitement and curiosity, and not fear or disgust.  She was most definitely Dean Winchester’s daughter.

“Just the seeds,” Dean explained.

Her expression fell.  “Oh.”

Unquestionably Dean’s progeny Castiel mused as he looked through the junk drawer for a black Sharpie marker.  He grabbed a couple of large spoons from the silverware drawer and placed the items on the table next to the pumpkin.  Emma watched him.  She gave him a small smile.  Castiel smiled in return, and then quickly returned to stirring the chili.

Dean returned with a sound approximating a herd of elephants and smartly took the time to clear the table before laying out the flattened shipping box from the FTR Company.  Castiel colored and focused even harder on the chili.  Had Dean not noticed what box he had pulled out of the bin?  It was plain brown cardboard with no pictures or markings, but FTR stood for Fantasy To Reality.  It was their go-to company for new sex toys.

“What’s with the spoons?” Dean asked.  “We’re going to use our hands!”

“Yeah!” Emma agreed, probably more in response to Dean’s funny, growling tone than his words.

“After you dig everything out with your hands,” Castiel said, “you’ll need the spoons to scrape the sides.  You really want to get everything out so it will be dry, otherwise the candle might have trouble burning.  Or you might catch the whole pumpkin on fire.”

“That would be awesome,” Emma giggled.

Castiel turned around and gave Dean a look.  Dean shrugged and grinned his most adorable grin.  He gave him a wink and Castiel turned away to hide his smile.

“Fine, spoons.  What’s the marker for?”

“To draw the face.”

“Naw.  We’ll free hand it.”

Castiel didn’t comment and began slicing an Italian loaf to make garlic bread.

“Okay,” Dean said to Emma, “you can help with everything but the knife part, okay?”

“’Kay.”

“Okay.  You have to be very careful.  This knife is very sharp.  You need to always be aware of where the blade is and—”

Dean cut off with a sharp hiss of pain.  Castiel whipped around and saw Dean sucking on his left index finger.

“What did you do?” Castiel asked, aghast.

“Nufing,” Dean mumbled.

“He cut his finger,” Emma supplied helpfully.

Dean glared at her for ratting him out.  Castiel hurried to Dean’s side and tried to pull his finger out of his mouth.

“How bad?  Do we need to go to an urgent care center?  Does it need stitches?”

Holding his hand, Castiel saw that Dean had a very superficial cut across the pad of his finger.  It took a couple of seconds for fresh blood to well up in the cut.

“That was a very dramatic gasp,” Castiel said with a reproving look.

Dean shrugged and stuck his finger back in his mouth.

“Wait here,” Castiel said and ran upstairs to the retrieve the first aid kit from their bathroom.  After applying Neosporin and a Batman Band-Aid, Castiel kissed the injured finger gently.  He smirked at Dean.

“There.  All better.”

“Thanks, babe.  You take such good care of me.”

“I do,” Castiel agreed dryly.

Dean leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.  Castiel leaned into the kiss, feeling like the two hours since the last time they had kissed had been an unbearable eternity.  Emma giggled from her perch halfway on the table and they pulled apart quickly.  The little girl was smiling at them—and holding the giant carving knife.

“Hey!” Dean said, stepping forward quickly and taking the knife from her.  “What did I say about the knife?”

“I didn’t cut myself.”

“But what did I say?”

“No knife.”

“That’s right.  No knife.  Good girl.”

“ _I_ didn’t cut myself,” she repeated softly.

Dean eyeballed her as he reached for the pumpkin and she kept her eyes on what he was doing with exaggerated interest.  Castiel snorted in amusement and moved to the stove to check on the slowly simmering chili.

“Okay.  Now that the top is off, we just reach in and pull out the guts.”

Emma made a squealing noise and Dean’s hand squelched around the pumpkin innards.  Castiel retrieved some butter from the fridge and placed it in a small measuring cup to melt in the microwave.

“Don’t be afraid.  Just push up your sleeves and dig on in there.”

Castiel glanced back and saw that Emma was fully on the table on her knees and leaning over the pumpkin.  Her sleeves were pushed up and her tiny hand was about to plunge into the lobotomized gourd.

“Stop!”

Emma and Dean froze and looked over at him.

“What now?” Dean asked a little too pleasantly.

Castiel walked to the pantry and dug out a small, pink, frilly apron that hung underneath the baking and grilling aprons Castiel and Dean used respectively.  Dean had bought the tiny apron as a “joke” and suggested Castiel bake him a pie wearing it.  And only the apron.  Castiel had declined and told Dean that the only thing pink and frilly he wore was underwear.  That of course had turned into a large package from FTR being delivered a few days later with an embarrassment of pink panties.  The apron had hung unused and forgotten in the pantry until it finally had its moment to shine.  Castiel walked over to the table, looped the top over Emma’s head, and then tied it around her waist.

“This is your favorite _Super Why_ shirt, isn’t it?” Castiel asked.  “You don’t want to get it dirty.”

“Oh.  No.  Thank you, Mr. Cas.”

“No problem.  Proceed.”

“That’s not why I bought that thing,” Dean murmured quietly as Castiel passed him.

“Just be grateful it’s being used at all,” Castiel muttered back.

Dean gave him a smack on the ass and then returned his full attention to his daughter and the pumpkin.  Castiel listened to the two children laugh and make “ew” sounds as they eviscerated the pumpkin.  He worked on his garlic bread and couldn’t help but smile as he listened to Dean obey very careful instructions on exactly where and how to carve the face.

“There.  How’s that?” Dean asked.

“It’s sideways,” Emma replied.

“What?  It’s perfect.  Cas.  Babe!  What do you think?”

Castiel turned around and Dean turned the pumpkin to face him.  The eye holes were sadly uneven and set too far to the left of the mouth.  Castiel put a hand in the air as he stalled for time to think of what to say.  Then he covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at the lopsided visage.

“Well?” Dean prompted.

“It’s…it’s a little…uneven.”

“Uneven?”  Dean turned it to look at the face again.  “It looks fine to me.”

“It looks like it had a stroke, Dean.”

Dean shot him an offended, betrayed look.  Castiel took out his best paring knife and walked over to the table.

“Let me see if I can straighten him up a bit.”

Dean stepped back, grumbling, and Castiel sat down in a chair.  Emma scooted closer on top of the table and leaned close to his side to watch him work.  Eventually her head rested on his shoulder and he lost a good deal of mobility in his carving arm, but he didn’t shrug her off or ask her to move.  After about ten minutes of enlarging one eye and stretching the mouth, it looked more or less decent.

“How’s that?” Castiel asked Emma.

“It’s good!”

“I’m glad you like it.”  He stood up and faced Dean with a triumphant smile.

“Looked scarier the other way,” the man groused.

“It did,” Castiel placated him.  He kissed him on the cheek.  “Go help Emma put on her costume and then dinner will be ready.”

“Okay, Emmy,” Dean said.  “You heard Uncle Cas.  Let’s go put on our costumes.”

Emma cheered and reached her arms out to Dean, wiggling her fingers.  He picked her up and swung her down to the floor.  She raced for the stairs and thumped up them almost as loudly as her father did.

“Are you trying to get her to like the nickname Emmy because your brother won’t let you call him Sammy anymore?”

“ _No_ ,” Dean said in a tone that clearly meant yes.

Castiel chuckled and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, drawing him in close.  “What costume are you wearing?”

“Dusting off the old cowboy getup.”

“I assume you’ll be wearing pants under the chaps this time,” Castiel said with an amused leer.

“Of course.  I’m not that much of a degenerate.  What are you wearing?”

“Just clothes.”

Dean frowned slightly.  “No costume?”

“Well…the costume I had picked out isn’t exactly…good for public.”

“But you were going to wear it to Balthazar’s party, right?”

Castiel gave Dean a look and let him consider the type of party Balthazar threw every year.  Understanding dawned over his features.

“Ohhhh,” he intoned.  And then, “Ohhhh,” he groaned in regret.  “You’ll wear it later?” he asked in a pitifully hopeful voice.

“You know I only wear costumes on Halloween, Dean.”

“But Caaaaaas,” Dean whined.

Castiel shrugged, completely unremorseful.  “You chose trick-or-treating with a kindergartner.  That’ll teach you to be a good father.”

Castiel smiled to soften the words and Dean laughed.

“Silly me.  I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Castiel’s smile lessened a bit.  “Yes, you will,” he said solemnly.

Dean’s brow creased a little in concern as he looked at his boyfriend.

“But that’s because you’re kind-hearted and selfless and that doesn’t even scratch the surface of why I love you.”

Dean beamed at him.  “I knew you had a thing for me,” he said, recalling the response he’d made the first time Castiel had told him that he loved him.

Castiel rolled his eyes and stepped away from Dean.

“You’re insufferable when you’re smug.  Go help your daughter get dressed.”

Dean stole a quick kiss before running up the stairs.  Castiel returned to the kitchen, a little annoyed that his jealousy was actually being beaten down by the sappy affection he felt watching Dean be a good person.  It really didn’t take much to make Castiel melt into goo.  He’d nearly proposed marriage to the man after he’d tossed some of the meat from his sandwich to a stray cat that was eyeing them as they had one of their quick lunch dates on a park bench midway between their jobs.

Castiel managed to get the pumpkin carving mess cleaned up, the table set, and the garlic bread broiled before he finally heard the two eager trick-or-treaters come downstairs.

“I was starting to get worried you’d fallen into a wormhole,” Castiel said.

Dean scoffed at the suggestion and Castiel bit his lip as he admired Dean dressed in tight jeans, leather chaps, denim shirt tucked in, and a soft brown suede vest.  Dean did look good as a cowboy.  He twirled his white cowboy hat in his hands and gave Castiel a wink.  Castiel looked away to keep himself from making an inappropriate comment.  His eyes fell on Emma.

“Oh, Dean.”

What?” Dean asked defensively in response to Castiel’s disappointed tone.

“Go get a brush.”

“Wh—” Dean’s question was quelled with a look from Castiel.  He turned and plodded up the stairs.

“Come here, Emma.”

The little girl came to him obediently and he helped her up onto the chair with the four inch booster cushion.  He pulled his chair close to hers and began to take out the messy, uneven braids Dean had wrangled her fine, blonde hair into.  Dean returned just as Castiel had carefully loosened the tangles the plaits had caused.  He brushed Emma’s hair until it was very smooth and the little girl swayed a bit in a contented trance.  Then he carefully braided her hair into two neat and even braids.  He resettled the red beret on her head and had to hope it would stay on by itself.  Two men with short hair just didn’t keep bobby pins in the house.

“There.  Your costume is great,” Castiel said with a smile for the girl.

“Thank you.  Red Riding Hood is my favorite.”

“She is spunky.  Are you hungry for some dinner?  And then we can go trick-or-treating.”

Emma nodded enthusiastically.  Castiel stood up to help Dean dish out the chili and put the garlic bread on a plate.

“She looks cute,” Dean said, “but not like any Red Riding Hood I’ve ever seen.  She wanted to wear skates.  That’s what took so long.  We had a bit of a standoff over the skates.  I think it’s too dangerous if she’s going to be going up and down porch stairs.”

“A valid concern.  I’m on your side if you need backup.”

“Thanks.  Why skates though?  Really don’t remember that part of the story.”

“Because she’s Red Riding Hood from _Super Why_.  She always wears skates.”

“Oh.”  Dean glanced over at his daughter.  “That explains the beret too.”

Castiel smiled and shook his head.  “Come on.  We want to be finished with trick-or-treating when it gets dark, not starting.”

“I hate this new trend of trick-or-treating in broad daylight,” Dean mumbled as they carried bowls to the table.  “Sammy and I never _started_ trick-or-treating before full dark and nothing ever happened to us.”

“Sorry.  As a police officer I have to take my department’s own advice.  I hate being a hypocrite.”

“Oh, I know, babe.”

Castiel made a face at him, which he returned.  Emma giggled as she watched them, her eyes darting back and forth between the two.  She munched happily on a buttery piece of garlic-less bread.

“You think we’re funny?” Dean asked.

Emma giggled again and nodded.  Dean reached over and tickled her side.  She squealed and lurched away.  Castiel reached out and prevented her from falling off her chair.

“Not at the table,” he said, internally bemoaning the fact that he sounded exactly like his mother.

“Sorry,” came the pair of contrite replies.

After they finished eating, Castiel gave Emma and Dean the tasks of lighting the jack-o-lantern and putting out candy in a bowl on the front porch while he washed the dishes and put away the leftover chili.  They were done before he and nagged him to hurry up.  Eventually they were out the door and on their way.  Dean and Castiel walked with Emma between them, each holding a hand.  When they reached a house, Dean would hand her the plastic jack-o-lantern bucket and she would skip up the door to get her treat.  They continued on in this manner for nearly an hour and Castiel was amazed a five year old could walk that long without crashing or complaining.  Until she did crash and started crying a bit.

Dean picked her up and carried her in his arms as they made their way back to their townhouse.  Castiel had the important job of holding onto the candy bucket, which was very full.  By the time they got home, Emma was asleep on Dean’s shoulder and Castiel had to be the bad guy who woke her up.  Fortunately she wasn’t cranky and willingly agreed to take off her costume and take a bath.  Dean bribed her with the promise that she could look at her candy haul afterwards and have one piece before bed.

Somehow Castiel wound up with the task of actually bathing Emma.  She seemed completely unbothered that he was the one to help her through her nightly ritual.  It was technically only the fourth time they had ever even been together in person, but she talked about the show _Super Why_ and played with a toy shark while Castiel washed her hair and awkwardly washed her body.  He was going to tell Dean this was a father’s job because he felt just a little too uncomfortable doing it.

“Uncle Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Are you like Tim?”

“Uh…who’s Tim?”

“Mommy’s special friend.  She says he’s going to be my stepdaddy.  Stepdaddy means that he won’t replace my daddy, but he’ll live with us and do things like a daddy sometimes.”

“Ah.  I see.  Um.  Well…I guess I am a little like Tim.  I’m De—your daddy’s special friend.”

“Yeah.  Because you kiss.”

Castiel chuckled.  “Yes.  Because we kiss.”

“So I should call you Cas, right?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at her.  “Sure.  I don’t mind.”

“It’s just, you’re not Uncle Cas.  Not like Uncle Peter or Uncle Sam.  Tim isn’t Uncle Tim because he’s a stepdaddy.  Mommy says I can call him Tim.”

Castiel nodded.  “You’re a very wise little girl.  Excellent reasoning skills.”

“What’s wise?”

“Smart.”

Emma nodded decidedly.  “I am smart.”

Castiel laughed and stood up to get a towel.  “Alright.  Let’s get dried off.”

Once Emma was dry, in pajamas, and had her hair combed out, Castiel finally relented to take her down to examine her candy.  She and Dean upended the bucket onto the kitchen table and spent a good fifteen minutes sorting the candy into a good pile, an okay pile, and a crap pile.  Emma chose her one piece of candy from the good pile and Dean told her she didn’t have to brush her teeth before bed—just this once.  Castiel almost objected, but she wasn’t his kid.

As they climbed the stairs to put Emma to bed, Castiel recalled his conversation with the girl during her bath.  She had dubbed him to be her stepfather; maybe she was his kid.  He wasn’t ever going to leave Dean and Dean was never going to abandon Emma.  They were going to be in each other lives for as long as they lived.

Castiel watched from the door as Dean tucked Emma into her small bed.  She didn’t even ask for a bedtime story; probably because her eyelids were drooping heavily.  Dean leaned down to hug her, and then placed a kiss on her forehead.  She murmured goodnight sleepily and then he walked over to the door.  Emma held her arms out toward Castiel.  He was a little startled by the gesture.  He glanced at Dean, but he just raised his eyebrows expectantly at him.  Castiel crossed the room and leaned down to hug Emma.

“Goodnight, Cas,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

He walked to the door and Dean turned out the light.  The small Elsa nightlight illuminated the corner closest to the door.  They backed out quietly and left the door partially open.  Then they tiptoed downstairs and popped some popcorn and cracked open a couple of beers to enjoy on the couch.  They started _Army of Darkness_ , muted it, and turned on the closed captions.  Less than a quarter of the way through the movie, Castiel abandoned his snack and drink so that he could snuggle so close to Dean’s side he was practically in his lap.  Dean’s arm was a strong, reassuring presence around his shoulders.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked softly.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Thank you.  For doing this tonight.  I know I changed our plans at the last minute—without even asking you.  But I want to be a part of her life.  I lost my mom so young, and Dad was hardly ever around.  I don’t want her to experience that.”

“I understand, Dean.  I was happy to do it.”

“Were you?” he asked dryly.

Castiel chuckled.  “Well, beforehand I was a little peeved.  But while doing it, yes, I did enjoy it.”

Dean’s arm tightened around him.  “It means so much to me to see you with Emma.  You’re so good with her.  She really likes you.  She told me she did.”

“She did?” Castiel asked, sitting up and turning just enough to look at Dean.

The man smiled and nodded.  “She did.  She said she likes you better than Tim.  Whoever the hell that is.”

Castiel felt a little thrill at being the favorite stepfather.  He almost informed Dean of this information, but then he figured that was Lydia’s problem.

“I like you too,” Dean said.

“Just like?” Castiel asked in a teasing tone.

“So much more,” Dean replied, uncharacteristically serious.  “I honestly didn’t think I could possibly love you more than I did, but seeing you with Emma—seeing you with my daughter—I love you so much—I don’t even know how to express it.”

Castiel felt nearly overwhelmed by Dean’s words and the intensity of his gaze.  He couldn’t believe he was getting choked up while a man with a chainsaw for a hand slaughtered zombies in the background.

“I love you too, Dean.  And I love Emma.  I truly do.  Because she’s a part of you.  And she’s a pretty amazing and smart kid.”

“Yeah, she is,” Dean said, smiling and easing the melodramatic moment.  He reached up with a hand and combed his fingers through Castiel’s hair.  “Did you miss going to Balthazar’s party?”

Castiel shook his head and answered completely honestly.  “Not at all.  Tonight was kind of perfect.”

Dean leaned forward and kissed him tenderly, holding him close and finally giving him the kind of kiss they couldn’t do around children.  He pulled back with Castiel’s bottom lip between his teeth, gave it a light love bite, and then released it.

“Happy Halloween, baby.”

Castiel smiled and swiftly moved to straddle Dean’s lap.  Dean laughed in surprise and watched with amusement as Castiel unzipped his jeans.  He pulled the fly back to reveal the black and orange satiny panties he was wearing.

Dean grinned.  “On second thought, Happy Halloween to me.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
